


additional notes on the human spirit

by frankoceansmoonriver



Series: dead but without limit [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, World War II, binding mentions, top surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankoceansmoonriver/pseuds/frankoceansmoonriver
Summary: He’s missed Bucky’s eyes on him, drinkin’ him up like that, and it’s only after Bucky has turned away that Steve realizes that Bucky had been staring because he’s never seen Steve’s bare chest before. Steve feels chewed up and spat back out, mind running wild and wondering what Bucky thinks of him now with this new body. He wonders if Bucky likes it better. He wouldn’t mind if he did. It would make sense, after all. He finds that he wants Bucky’s eyes back on him. He misses him so much it makes every muscle in Steve ache.Or, the one where Steve Rogers is a trans man.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: dead but without limit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521326
Comments: 21
Kudos: 58





	additional notes on the human spirit

**Author's Note:**

> here we are again! once again, i could not ever have written this without the guidance of the most wonderful @Adoxography, he's literally the best. 
> 
> disclaimer: this was written by a cis lady and edited by a trans man. if you have questions or comments please let me know. i am available @ dykecrowleys on tumblr, and am very open to critique if you feel it is necessary.
> 
> you could probably read this without reading the first part, but i don't particularly recommend it, but like do what you want i'm not your boss.

_"If you don't want it Morris," said the other, "give it to me."_

_"I won't." said his friend doggedly. "I threw it on the fire. If you keep it, don't blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire like a sensible man."_

The Monkey’s Paw, W. W. Jacobs

“Are you ready?” Erskine asks, leaning over Steve and smiling down at him. The table is a little cold against Steve’s back, and he’s nervous. There is a thin sheet draped over him. He lets out a shaky sigh.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Everything will be fine Steven,” Erskine promises, and then covers Steve’s mouth and nose with the mask. Steve breathes deeply. He falls asleep easily, and does not dream.

When Steve wakes, his mouth is very dry. He coughs lightly. He’s in a bed. His head is propped up on a pillow.

“How do you feel?”

Steve turns to his right and sees Erskine standing over the bed, holding a clipboard.

“Okay. Pretty sore though. And my throats dry.”

“I’ll get you more pills for the soreness. And some ice. I think you’ll heal nicely though.”

“So it went okay?” Steve asks. He had just assumed it wouldn’t. Most of the time his body failed him, why shouldn’t it now?”

“It went just as planned. You will have some bruising, and your chest will be very tender. Stiff and numb at times too. It may be difficult to move your arms. You’ll have to be careful. But that’s all normal.”

“Huh.” Steve bites the inside of his cheek. “Okay.”

“We’ll start you at basic in a few months. For now, all you need to do is rest.”

So Steve rests. Or, he tries to. He sleeps in fits and the soreness wakes him up half the time. He suspects the nurses give him sleeping pills because he’s so fidgety and always trying to leave bed. They are very kind to him though, and Steve blushes when the night nurse places a cool washcloth to his temple each evening.

Two weeks pass, and finally, blessedly, Steve is allowed to look in a mirror.

A nurse slowly unwraps the bandages around Steve’s chest. His heart rate picks up. He tries to keep his breathing even, but it’s difficult with the anticipation eating at him.

Finally, the last of the bandages is removed and disposed of properly. Steve looks down at himself and the world tilts.

It’s exactly as Erskine had said, yet nothing could really have prepared Steve. His chest is flat. Sure, he’s covered in yellow and purple bruises, and there are two twin dark pink scars across his chest, but his chest is flat. His chest looks like Bucky’s.

Steve lets out a shaky laugh. He goes to the bathroom sink and looks in the mirror. He looks into his own big blue eyes and then down farther, at his naked, skinny frame. He watches his reflection poke lightly at the tender flesh. He winces, but then smiles. The tender flesh is his. He smiles at the man staring back at him.

“Is it okay?” Erskine asks from the door. Steve is so surprised he nearly jumps out of his skin.

He laughs lightly to himself, then nods, watching Erskine’s reflection in the mirror. “It’s better than okay.” 

/

The first time Steve sees Agent Carter, she’s in the middle of punching an insubordinate in the jaw. It’s a one and done. She slams a perfectly manicured fist into the dumb sucker’s chin and he whips backwards, then tumbles down into the grass. Steve laughs. The same guy had been giving him shit earlier. It was nice to see someone capable of putting the asshole in his place.

Steve was properly introduced to Carter later, by Erskine. Her big brown eyes had made Steve fumble over all his words. He tried not to stare but figured he was probably being obvious.

Carter is patient and smiles closed lipped as he finds his words. She’s strong and ferociously competent. Steve thinks men should fall to their knees just looking at her. She reminds him of Bucky, if he’s being honest, what with her pretty mouth and strong jaw, and the way Steve can tell she hasn’t taken shit from anyone in years.

“I would like to tell her about you, with your permission of course,” Erskine had said the second that Peggy had left them alone.

“Tell her what?”

“Tell her about your surgery. Tell her about the medication you used to take. I believe the knowledge would be beneficial to you, should you ever need someone you can trust.”

“But I…” Steve begins, but trails off. How can he explain? He likes her, so he doesn’t want her to know? Erskine would laugh at that, and it wasn’t exactly fair to Carter either. Besides, he already has a confidant. He’s just a bit tied up at the moment. “Is that really necessary?”

“I think it would be good if someone else knew Steven. I won’t be able to stay the whole time here after we give you the serum. Not long anyway. I just want you to feel comfortable, and Carter is someone you can trust. As you can imagine, she’s someone who has been through her own hardships.”

“I can’t imagine how hard she’s had to work,” Steve says softly. He looks down at his feet.

“So what do you say? Hm? You could use a friend. I mean, does anyone else know about you?”

“Yeah. I got someone who knows.”

“Where are they?”

“France,” Steve whispers, feeling small. “Last I heard. He hasn’t written in a while. I’m worried about him, actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you hear from him soon.”

“Me too.”

“But in the meantime, may I tell Agent Carter?”

“Guess so. If you think it’s best.” Steve shrugs. It can’t hurt. If Erskine trusts her, then Steve thinks he can too.

“Thank you. Unless, you’d like to be the one to tell her?”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” Steve scoffs.

“I have a meeting with her in a few hours. I’ll let her know by seventeen hundred.”

“All right. If you think she’ll understand.”

“I do. I really do, Steven. Do you trust me?”

“Of course!” Steve almost shouts.

Erskine nods. “I know her, I promise.”

/

“Rogers!” Carter calls from a yard away. Steve stops in his tracks and nearly falls to the ground as he does so. Sweat drips off his brow and down his cheek. The running is probably the worst of it, next to push ups. The push ups tug at his still fresh fairly fresh scars, but the running is still worse. It’s always obvious Steve can’t keep up, but with the running he lags behind so far he thinks he might as well not even move.

But he always moves. Always.

“Yes Ma’am,” Steve huffs out.

“Report to my tent at fifteen hundred, understood?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Steve repeats, and makes his feet hit the dirt again.

He goes to Carter’s tent still covered in dirt and sweat. He watches her sit behind her little desk, not a hair out of place. He gets angry with himself for thinking of how lovely she is. That’s not why she worked so hard, for men like to him to find her pretty.

Steve thinks of the last time he wore lipstick and had his hair up in curlers. He thinks he was in church with his Ma, about six years old. She had made a whole thing of it, thinking that Steve would like it. He hadn’t of course. She hadn’t made him do it again.

“Hello Ma’am. You wanted to speak with me?”

“I did.”

“What’s it about?”

“I spoke to Erskine last night. Had a little chat. I’ve been informed of the situation, to speak plainly.”

“Okay,” Steve says, for lack of anything better.

“I wanted to tell you, that you can trust me.”

Steve looks around, making sure they’re alone.

“It’s fine Rogers, no one will disturb us.”

“That’s what Erskine said. That I could trust you.”

“I just wanted to say. You are overqualified for the job that Erskine has bestowed upon you. I suppose that’s all I wanted to make clear.”

“I’m not so sure about that, but I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”

“Are you prepared for your procedure tomorrow?”

“As much as I can be.”

“Nervous?”

“Kind of.”

“Don’t be. You’ll be just fine.”

“Yeah. It’s stupid. I think I was more nervous for surgery than I am to take the serum.”

“Well, you’ve been taking something akin to the serum for the last eight years. That’s not stupid at all.”

“Hm. Guess that makes sense.”

Carter smiles at him, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “I can’t pretend as though I understand the adversaries you’ve faced, but I do know what it’s like when no one will give you the time of day. When no one will take you seriously, so you have to prove how serious you are about surviving. _That_ is something I am acclimated with.”

Steve works his jaw. “It wasn’t a choice you know. Being like this. I didn’t. It’s not brave if it’s the only thing to do.” He stands in front of her dumbly, needing her to understand.

“Don’t be stupid,” Carter says simply, voice clear as a bell. “Of course it is.”

/

Steve looks to Erskine, then to Carter. He swallows hard and then nods. He gets onto the table, cold against his bare skin. He allows himself to be strapped in by his wrists and ankles. The table slides back up, and then the metal encases him. He can just barely see out of the little window provided.

He tries to keep his breathing even, but he’s scared. He knows it’s going to hurt. His entire body will be rewritten, and though it isn’t perfect, his body is his own. Not for the first time, he wonders what Bucky would think of what he’s agreeing to. Knowing Buck, he’d be furious.

The machine powers up. There is a loud whirring sound that hurts Steve’s head. He counts down from thirty. Then the heat starts. Then the pain.

Steve shuts his eyes and clenches his teeth. He grunts through the agony.

He makes it only a minute longer before the pain is too much. It feels like his skull is going to crack in half. It feels like his guts are on fire, and that each of his bones are ablaze. Steve lets out one loud and long scream.

“Steven!” Erskine calls from somewhere far away. “Stop! Turn it off Stark!” There is worry in his voice, and Steve feels his own horror creep in through the pain.

“ _NO_!” Steve shouts. “ _KEEP GOING_!” 

The pain impossibly worsens. Steve thinks he is going to die. Bucky is going to be so, so angry that Steve did this to himself. He thinks _I’m sorry, honey_ , and then the pain stops.

Steve gasps for air. Breathing hurts, like he’s run a hundred miles, and then gets easier and easier. Breath comes simply, and when Steve opens his eyes he realizes with a start that there are brighter colors there. He had known he was partially colorblind, but he’d had no idea what he had been missing.

The machine stops whirring. His head doesn’t hurt. The latch falls open and Steve’s feet find the floor. He stumbles on unsteady legs and breathes deeply.

“Steven, are you alright, how do you feel?” Erskine asks, running toward him. Agent Carter follows, worried eyes big and bright. She nearly falls on top of Steve, one hand out towards his chest. She pulls her hand back and then looks up at him.

Up.

_Up_.

_Oh_.

He’s taller than Carter now. A lot taller. This is weird.

But he hardly has time at all to take in is body when the gunshots start.

Hours later, after the chaos has ended and Steve feels hollowed out, he looks in the mirror.

He feels a little like he did after surgery. He feels a little horrified, and a little relieved. He feels elated too.

He looks down at the body and makes a fist. The speed, agility, and strength he exhibited right after the Hydra agent destroyed the serum, he had hardly believed he had been capable of all that he did. Now, finally getting a closer look, he can see how it was done.

_This can’t be me, but it is,_ Steve thinks. There is a light dusting of blond hair across his chest. On his forearms too. The muscles across every surface of his body were not gained of his own accord. He’s strong now. So strong it shouldn’t be possible. From what he’s been told, it would take a whole lot to make him tired; to make him hurt. He lets himself be silly for a minute and thinks of how he could have Bucky for hours and hours and he wouldn’t even break a sweat. He wipes the smirk off his face and looks back to his reflection.

Will Bucky like him like this? Bucky liked him soft and small and liked him when he tried to come off intimidating. Took him seriously when he got like that. The only one who ever really did.

He feels uncertain now, about looking Bucky in the eye. About what he will see there. He didn’t do all this to please Bucky. He did it to do what was right. He wonders if Bucky will see it like that.

/

Steve doesn’t get to see a warzone. They say he is a precious weapon. They say he can’t see battle. They send him out in tights to boost soldier’s morale. They film him wearing a ridiculous outfit in an effort to sell war bonds. It must work, because they keep doing it. There are a group of dazzling girls that perform with him each night. They flirt with him endlessly and he has no idea what to do with it. He’s never had so much attention in his life. He stammers out replies to their offers. It makes him feel embarrassed and mostly raw. They don’t know him. He reads his little script off the back of the giant shield they give him. He feels ridiculous. They tell him to smile more. He doesn’t want to perform, he wants to fight. They don’t let him fight.

He likes how he looks sometimes. He likes that his chest is flat. He likes that he has more facial hair that doesn’t grow in patchy. It doesn’t matter, because they make him shave it all off anyway. He works out, and feels strong and competent which is nice, but he doesn’t get to help in any way he can find meaningful. He feels ridiculous, that after everything, all he’s doing is wearing a silly outfit and smiling like a lunatic. He misses Erskine. He misses Bucky so badly. He sketches Bucky during his down time. He writes him letters he can’t send because he doesn’t know where Bucky is, and it doesn’t matter because everything he has to say would be edited out by the government.

Carter tries to make him feel better about all of it. He tells her a little about Bucky. Not a lot, and certainly not that he’s in love with him, because that would mean outing Bucky too, but he tells her about his best friend in the world. He tells her that Bucky will probably punch him the second he sees him, for taking the serum. For trying to go to war at all.

“He knows about me. He’s the only one that does aside from you,” Steve says in hushed tones.

Carter smiles. “Is that him?” She asks, pointing down at Steve’s sketchbook.

“Uh, yeah. That’s him.”

“You capture him beautifully. You’re lucky to have each other.”

“I think I got really lucky with Buck. I don’t know if he’s so lucky to have me, I think I mainly cause him stress.” Steve smiles at that.

“You must be worth all the stress then,” Carter says. Steve doesn’t have a response for that.

/

“The 107th was captured.”

Steve freezes. His bones go cold. He turns, then parrots what she said, just to be clear. “The 107th?”

“Yes. Why?”

“That’s. That’s Bucky’s unit!” Steve blurts. His hands begin to shake. “That’s my friend’s unit.”

“I’m so sorry Steve,” Peggy says. “I don’t think any of them would have made it.”

“But there’s a chance?” Steve says immediately, the planning already beginning in his head. “There’s a chance that they might still be alive?”

“Perhaps, but it’s slim.”

“I have to go. You have to tell me the coordinates,” Steve says, forgetting that Carter that is his superior, forgetting that he has no clearance to do anything but do a little speech before pretty girls do high kicks and twirls in front of him.

“I can’t do that Rogers, you know that.”

“If Bucky is alive and I can get to him, I have to go.”

“The base is a thousand miles away. What are you going to do, walk to Austria?”

“If I have to,” Steve says simply. “I gotta get him.”

Carter looks away. She folds her arms across her chest. “They’d have my head if I were to help you. You realize that don’t you?”

“I…I do,” Steve says. He feels bad to be putting her in this position. He does. He knows the things she’s done to get here. He knows he isn’t worth the risk. But he has to ask. It’s for Bucky, little else matters. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t of the utmost importance. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to go around you which I really, really don’t want to do.”

“Oh please, you’re not capable of that,” Carter says, smirking. She sighs heavily. “Let me talk to Stark. If anything happens to you. Well. We just won’t think about that.”

/

There is Bucky, weak and helpless in a way that is so beyond wrong, it makes Steve’s stomach flip. There is the faintest of smiles that plays at Bucky’s lips as he slowly realizes it’s Steve. When Steve lifts him off the table he weighs nothing. Steve is used to putting his entire weight on Bucky, feeling the hardness of his muscles and the unending warmth of him. He’s grotesquely thin and cold and Steve tries not to make his horror visible.

“Come on pal, I got you,” Steve says, draping Bucky’s arm over his shoulder.

“I thought you were smaller,” Bucky mutters, his eyes huge and glassy, mouth going slack. He’s barely conscious, but the farther they walk, the easier it is for Bucky to hold his own weight. Eventually he walks without the help of Steve. “What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you later, I promise. I got the others out, now we have to follow them.”

“Is it permanent?” Bucky asks, stopping in his tracks. Steve’s chest pulls together tight and too hot. He doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean. He doesn’t have time to figure it out. He needs to get Bucky out of here.

“So far, yeah.”

He goes back and takes Bucky by the hand. He laces their fingers together, and then he runs.

/

When they get back to base, Carter nods. There’s a smile forming, but she doesn’t let it. She walks towards Steve and the hundred men that follow behind him.

“I thought you were dead. I’m glad to see I was wrong.” She does smile now, and it’s stunning. Steve thinks again of how lovely she is. She’s beautiful, and she’s strong, and she’s far smarter than he could ever hope to be. He smiles back at her.

“I’m glad you were wrong too.”

They watch each other, until Steve starts blushing and has to look down at his feet. Bucky saves him any further embarrassment though, because he shouts, with still strong lungs, “LET’S HEAR IT FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA!”

The rest of the prisoners of war join him, and a roar of applause erupts from behind Steve. Carter laughs, the lines around her eyes crinkling beautifully.

Steve looks to Bucky, who only tilts his head and smirks, lifting his eyebrows as if to say, _Well what did you expect?_

/

Bucky is too thin, and the dark circles under his eyes worry Steve thoroughly. He wants to do nothing but hold Bucky for ages, hold him to his chest, hold him inside his lungs that no longer give him any trouble, hold him against his now strong and relentless heart. Still, Steve is so relieved to see him breathing with that small smile playing at his lips that he lets himself relax, at least just for a moment.

They are alone now, for the first time since he’s pulled Buck off that freezing cold table. It’s night, and most of the unit has gone to sleep. A small lantern burns between them. Steve reaches across the tent and drags a finger across Bucky’s knuckles.

“Steve,” Bucky whispers, so low that if Steve didn’t have his enhanced hearing he might not have heard it at all. “What did you do? Do you have any idea how much danger you’ve put yourself in?”

Steve looks down at where their hands touch and smiles, then shrugs. “I couldn’t let you be out here all alone.”

“No, I mean it. How the hell did you get here? What did you let them do to you?”

Steve tries not to let the words sting. “After you left I tried to join up one more time. The guy giving the evals just happened to be someone I sort of knew.”

Steve watches Bucky work it out in his head. When the realization dawns on him he laughs and shakes his head. “No fuckin’ way. You’re not pullin’ my leg?”

“It was Erskine. The doctor from Germany. We talked for a long time. He said he thought he could make it work. And he did.”

“Where is he now?”

“They got to him. He was killed right after they gave me they made me like this.”

“So who else knows?” Bucky asks, eyes wide.

“Nobody, except you and Carter.”

Bucky looks down for a moment and scratches the back of his neck. “Carter huh?”

“Yeah. Erskine said I could trust her, and he wanted me to have someone I could turn to. He was right. I needed a confidant. I was…hell Buck I was scared.”

“Me and you both pal. What the fuck were you thinkin’? And what if someone finds out? We’re living in pretty close quarters in case you forgot.”

“I’ll be just fine. You’d be dead if I hadn’t done all this, in case _you_ forgot.”

“That is hardly the point Steve.”

“It’s entirely the point. Besides, I should have been out here a long time ago, doin’ my part.”

“Stevie, I’m too tired to argue with you about this again. But please, you have to be careful. You have to. This is important. Even like this, even with this new body, you have to be careful. If anyone finds out, it could still mean big trouble. You know it’s not safe.”

“That hasn’t really stopped me before.”

“No, it really hasn’t.”

Steve takes Bucky’s hand in his and squeezes tight. “I’ll be careful Buck. Promise.”

“Okay.” Bucky nods. He squeezes Steve’s hand back, and Steve hasn’t felt such relief since the moment he told Bucky about himself. It always revolves around Bucky.

“How you feelin’?” Steve asks, inspecting how pale Bucky is, even in the warm orange light.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

“So,” Bucky says, tilting his head. “Do you like it?”

“Like what?”

“Lookin’ like this.” Bucky’s eyes trail down to the hard tent covered ground.

“I don’t know. Sometimes. When I used to want to look different, it wasn’t all _this_. But it doesn’t hurt, looking like this. Being this. Ah, hell. I don’t know.”

“Your nose is still a little crooked,” Bucky says, then laughs. He runs a hand down his face. “And your forehead’s still too big.”

Steve cracks a laugh too. “And you’re still a smart ass.” Then, feeling shy like he never has with Bucky, he asks “Do you?”

“Do I what?” Bucky asks, still looking at the ground.

“Like how I look?” Steve’s voice comes out so small and pathetic.

“I’ve always liked lookin’ at you.”

“But now?”

Bucky looks up and rolls his eyes.

“If you’re asking if I approve of you risking your neck to get to the front lines, you’re not gonna get an answer you like.”

“That isn’t what I’m asking.”

“The outside just matches the inside now, Steve. That’s all.”

“You’re sore about it.”

“Of course I’m sore about it! You let a bunch of quacks experiment on you, they didn’t even know what would happen!”

Steve doesn’t speak. Erskine had not been a _quack_. His chest hurts, like his heart might give out. He clears his throat and tries not to groan at the loss.

“Oh, don’t look like that. Don’t—that’s not. Steve, look at me.”

Steve makes himself look up. Bucky is smiling softly. He drops his voice down real low and leans towards Steve. “You’re just as gorgeous as the first time I wanted you, as the last time I had you. Which is to say, of course I like it, especially if you like it. I’ll always be a sucker for you, stupid.”

Steve lets out a shaky laugh. He nods. “Hmm.”

“You dumb fuckin’ punk. After everything, you think something like this would make me stop wanting you?” Bucky whispers, terribly close to Steve’s ear. His breath is warm and tickles. Steve laughs again.

Steve leans forward, intending to kiss Bucky. Just once, just as quick as he can, but Bucky turns his head.

“Not here,” Bucky says, though he hardly says he words out loud. “You know we can’t. I’m sorry Stevie.”

Steve nods. He does know. It was a stupid thing to do in the first place. But God, does he miss Bucky, even now with him inches away.

It pains Steve to lean away, but he makes himself do it. Then, before he can stop himself, he mouths “I love you” to Bucky, because he does, and he needs him to know that that hasn’t changed one bit.

The corner of Bucky’s mouth pulls up and he smiles at Steve, one dimple visible.

“Me too,” Bucky says, voice loud again, like he’s proud to say it. He squeezes Steve’s hand one more time and then pulls it back to reach for his canteen. “Come on, let a recovering soldier get some sleep.” Bucky pats the floor of the tent. “Scoot over and let me lay down. You’re too big now, you need more room than you think.”

Steve does as he’s told. He budges over and sleeps a full foot away from Bucky, like it’s four years ago and like they haven’t been sleeping with limbs tangled up for months and months.

Steve falls asleep watching Bucky breathe in the darkness.

/

Months pass. Steve gets scared a lot, but he never, ever stops. There are seven of them in total. There’s Steve and Bucky, as always. And then there’s Dum Dum, Gabe, Morita, Dernier, and Falsworth. They keep Steve sane. They keep him in his place. They respect Steve because they respect the hell out of their Sergeant, and their Sergeant respects Steve. Steve got lucky like that.

They work together better than Steve could have ever imagined. He trusts all of them with his life, and they save his sorry ass very, very often. Dernier teaches Steve French. Morita patches Steve up too many times to count. Bucky continues to lose weight, can’t seem to keep it on. Steve tries to push his rations towards Bucky but of course Bucky refuses. “You need all the caloric intake you can get now, no fuckin’ way Rogers.”

Steve worries about Bucky constantly, and he falls more in love with him each and every day. Bucky has always protected Steve, but it’s different now. It’s no longer a turn of phrase, when Bucky used to say he’d kill for Steve.

Bucky watches Steve like a hawk. There’s one night he nearly bites Gabe’s head off because he gets too close to Steve when he’s changing his clothes. Bucky is protective, and attentive. But he doesn’t confide in Steve like he used to. They don’t accidentally brush shoulders. They sleep feet apart. There’s a definite space between them, and Steve hates it. It’s an ugly thing he does not like to acknowledge but it’s there. Bucky won’t look at him for more than a few seconds. He gives short answers to all of Steve’s questions. Steve wonders if he did something wrong.

/

Sometimes Steve is given command of more men. Sometimes Carter gives him missions where he has to learn the habits of other men who are unfamiliar.

Bucky takes to some of them. There’s one man named Jack Elkins that Bucky passes cigarettes with and laughs at his jokes too loud. Bucky puts a hand on Elkin’s shoulder and shoves playfully, the same way he used to do with Steve when he was small. Elkins has dark curly hair and a tall, wiry frame. He has glasses that are too big for his face. In an odd way, he’s handsome. There's something about his face that is fascinating, Steve can admit it. Watching Bucky converse at such ease, with ease Steve himself cannot provide, makes his guts feel all heavy and sick. He never says anything though. There’s nothing to say about it.

“He seems good,” Steve says around the campfire late one evening. “The new one.”

“Ole Jackie boy? Yeah. He’s alright. Long as he doesn’t do something stupid like get himself killed.” Bucky smokes, chewing on his bottom lip.

“He won’t. We keep our own safe.”

“He ain’t one of us,” Bucky says, looking at Steve like he’s a little disappointed. “He ain’t no Howlie. He’s just along for the ride. Maybe someday, but not yet.”

“He could be. Don’t be so hard on him,” Steve finds himself saying.

“I’m not. I _like_ him,” Bucky says, then shrugs. He throws the stub of his cigarette into the fire. He doesn’t say anything else. Steve has no idea what that’s supposed to mean. He can’t seem to ever figure out what Bucky is saying to him anymore. Steve just knows he misses him so badly, all he wants is to hold him down and keep him safe and in one place.

/

It’s been a week since any of them have washed up properly. Steve can smell himself, sweat and dirt and blood clinging to him from days previous. He smells real bad, worse than when he’d gotten sick and was too weak to bathe himself, worse than nights when he’d come home from dance halls reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. His breath is awful, he knows, and he’d give anything to be able to clean his face and under his arms.

When they see the riverbank, a few of the men lurch forward and break into a run, whooping at the sight of clean water. Steve meets Bucky’s eye, and Bucky raises his eyebrows and smirks.

The first man to hit the water drops to his knees in the wet grass and splashes water onto his face. He immediately begins to undress, dropping his pack and unbuttoning his uniform, rummaging around for what Steve can only assume is a bar of soap.

Everyone seems to get the idea, and soon near thirty men are splashing around in the water. Some of them splash each other, playful and carefree, at least for the time being.

He watches the men, some of them naked, others not, only partially so, some laughing, some simply washing the backs of their necks. He watches their freedom, their lack of thought about their bodies. He thinks about Agent Carter, and how lucky they all are that she is back at base. He thinks of how she could not do this if she wanted. Steve thinks about how he is lucky to be able to drop to his knees against the water bank and clumsily undo the buttons of his uniform, fingers still not used to their new strength and size.

Steve peels back layers of clothing, the fabric sticking to his skin. He gets down to his white undershirt, like he always has, and then bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to smile insanely at the realization that it’s fine to take it off.

He’s changed in front of others since surgery, and since the serum, but it was always still rushed and no one had really been paying him much mind. Now it is broad daylight and the men all know his name and follow his orders. They respect him. Steve doesn’t know if they still would if they knew he used to be unable to show his bare torso. He wonders if they would if they knew how he felt for Bucky, the heavy and choking love he feels encompassing him at all times he was thinking of Buck. He pushes past the thought, and strips off his shirt. He stares down at his bare chest, still marveling at it. There’s dirt on his stomach. They are nearly invisible, but there are still two thin pink scars under his pectorals. He can come up with something, if anyone asks.

He splashes water across his chest and down his arms. The water is cool and feels wonderful against his sweat and dirt caked skin. It is an immediate relief. He sighs, then cups the water in his palms and brings it to his face. He runs his wet fingers through his hair, pushing it back and out of his eyes.

It’s full minutes before Steve feels the pair of eyes on him from the other side of the river.

Steve looks up from where he sits, water soaking through his pants and into his kneecaps. Bucky is watching him from across the water, still fully clothed, unmoving and expression blank.

Steve watches him back, and tilts his head in thought, trying to understand why Bucky is looking at him like he’s just waking up for the first time in weeks. Finally, Bucky pulls his mouth into a crooked half grin, shakes his head, and looks away. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his pack of smokes. Bucky lights one and takes a drag, still shaking his head as he turns away from Steve.

He’s missed Bucky’s eyes on him, drinkin’ him up like that, and it’s only after Bucky has turned away that Steve realizes that Bucky had been staring because he’s never seen Steve’s bare chest before. Steve feels chewed up and spat back out, mind running wild and wondering what Bucky thinks of him now with this new body. He wonders if Bucky likes it better. He wouldn’t mind if he did. It would make sense, after all. He finds that he wants Bucky’s eyes back on him. He misses him so much it makes every muscle in Steve ache.

Steve finds his small bar of soap and finishes washing his body. He tries not to think about Bucky, but his eyes wander across the river more than once. Bucky finishes his cigarette and undresses; not all the way, just exposes his bare chest. Steve stares at his back, the strong muscles surrounding his shoulder blades making his mouth go dry. Bucky’s still far too thin. He’s all muscle, hard and pale. He can see Bucky’s ribs protruding. He knows Bucky hasn’t been eating enough. He doesn’t sleep well either. Bucky does not meet Steve’s eyes again. They both bathe and dress, nothing more passing between them. It’s been over a year since Steve had told Bucky he still loves him. It’s been nearly two since he kissed him last. It’s possible that Bucky doesn’t feel the same as he once did. They aren’t kids anymore, after all.

Steve shakes the thought as he does up the buttons on his uniform. He can’t think about it now. They’ve got a war to fight.

/

They finally get some R & R and it’s such a relief, Steve doesn’t believe it’s real. Dernier is thrilled because they are in France. He refuses to speak to anyone in English. Dum Dum gets very drunk and Steve watches all of them, all of his friends, drink, eat, and sing songs to each other. They’re at peace for the first time that Steve has met them. He wants this for them always.

Carter joins them for a little while. She enters the bar wearing a killer red dress and heels. She looks perfect, and Steve can’t help that his mouth goes soft. Steve stammers out a few words to her while Bucky watches, averting his eyes but still ever present.

“Hey Rogers?” Bucky says, downing his third glass of whiskey. He comes up behind Steve.

“Hey,” Steve says, smiling at Bucky, turning away from Carter.

“Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to let you know I’m turning in.”

“Already?” Steve asks, trying not to feel disappointed.

“Yeah. Real tired. If you need me I’ll be in my room.” He pats Steve’s shoulder twice, then turns away.

Steve turns back to Carter. She smiles all gentle, like maybe she knows. It’s a terrifying thought.

“It’s good to see you and your men having some fun,” she says. “You should go back to them.”

“Probably. I think Dugan is gonna bust a lung if he sings any louder.”

“Enjoy your night, Steven,” Carter says, and heads towards the bar. He wants to follow her. He wants to buy her a drink. He wants to talk to her, really talk. She _knows_ him, and she is his friend. Still, it seems she’s dismissing him. Steve fades into the background, and then slinks out of the bar, up to his sleeping quarters.

Steve means to just go to sleep, but he misses Bucky. He misses him, and even if Bucky’s asleep he just wants to watch him breathe, like he used to when they were still together. He goes to Bucky’s room and knocks on the door.

The door swings open. Bucky smiles and bites down on his bottom lip. “Took you long enough.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers. Apparently he’s not so good at reading Bucky anymore. That hurts, but he tries to shake it. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Sure you can.” Bucky holds the door open and Steve slips inside.

Bucky shuts the door and bolts it. He turns the lock over on the doorknob too. For a few moments he faces the door and does not turn to Steve. They breathe together, taking in the space, the four walls surrounding their bodies, not facing each other, and Steve readies himself to be swallowed alive by the silence.

Bucky finally turns and puts his hands in his pockets. He tries for a smile but fails at it. He stands before Steve and just shrugs. “I’m not being too presumptuous am I?”

“No,” Steve manages. His collar feels too tight around his throat.

Bucky walks towards Steve, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor. There is only one window but the curtains are already drawn. Bucky stops half a foot away from Steve. He clears his throat and lets out a soft, nervous laugh. “How you feelin’ Stevie?”

Steve inhales sharply and lets the smile spread across his face at the nickname he hasn’t heard in what feels like a century. It feels so damn good to hear it, like he’s resurfacing from being trapped underwater for months and he’s just now taking his first real breath.

“I’m good, Buck,” Steve says, voice rough. “I’ve been missin’ you.”

“I didn’t go anywhere,” Bucky says, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“I know,” Steve says, and closes the distance between them. He reaches a hand out and puts his hand on the back of Bucky’s neck. He takes his other hand and runs a thumb over Bucky’s jawline, and Bucky sighs into the touch.

Bucky reaches up and takes Steve’s hand in his own. “I’ve missed you too.” Then, in just the way Steve has dreamt about, Bucky looks at him and whispers “Sweetheart?”

He says it like he’s asking a question, and it hurts that he has to ask, so Steve pulls Bucky to his chest and buries his face in Bucky’s hair.

“I love you still,” Steve says, and it all pours out. He’s going to start rambling. “I don’t know what that means to you but I do, I love you, but if you don’t feel the same as before that’s okay. I know it’s been a long time. If you have someone else I won’t be upset. I just need you to know I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

Bucky pulls away to look Steve in the eye. His expression goes from confused to hurt to amused all in the span of ten seconds.

“Steve, baby, what the _hell_ are you going on about?”

“I’m just saying, I would understand. It’s been years. If you didn’t feel the same, or if you had some other…someone else, I just wouldn’t assume you’d still want me. The way we were.”

“Oh my God,” Bucky whispers. He shakes his head. “Stevie, baby, you think I would step out on ya?”

Steve rolls his eyes, tries to find the right words. But Bucky is the one who’s always been good with words. “Not like that. I didn’t say that.”

Bucky laughs, eyebrows raised so high it’s near comical. He’s just shaking his head incessantly. “No, that’s what you’re implying! You really think I could ever do that to you? If I couldn’t be with you how could I be with anyone else?”

“Well I’m…I’m me. I’m Captain Asshole. I thought it’d be a lot less safe if it was me you were caught with.”

“Maybe, sure, but Jesus fuckin’ Christ Steve, you’re all I want. All I’ve ever wanted, you know that. Have you lost your mind? Did you lose all your fuckin’ marbles when they shot you up with that serum? Huh?” Bucky takes his hand and flicks Steve hard between the eyes. “You’ve always been damn stupid but this is a whole new level of thick.”

“Ow! Bucky!” Steve says, rubbing at his forehead.

“Oh, did that hurt? Good! Serves you right for thinkin’ like that. I love you more now than I ever have. More and more every day. So don’t you say that shit.” Bucky is waving his finger in Steve’s face, his jaw clenched tight.

“Okay,” Steve says, letting himself start to believe it’s true. He laughs a little, the words catching up with him. “Okay Buck. You. Really?”

“Of course!” Bucky replies, but now he’s laughing too. “Of course. You too?”

“Me too, me too. _God_ , me too.” Steve pushes his nose into Bucky’s cheek and smiles. Bucky smells like cigarettes and whiskey. He smells of the same cologne he’s been buying since he was fucking sixteen years old. He smells like Brooklyn in the spring. He smells like home.

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and Bucky holds him back. Steve could nearly cry with how good it is to hold him like this. He hates how long it’s been, but it’s like no time has passed at all. Steve kisses the side of Bucky’s face and holds his head between his hands. Bucky says Steve’s name and turns his face, letting their lips meet. Bucky kisses soft as anything. Steve nips at his bottom lip gently, remembering how Bucky used to like that. He must still, because he smiles into the kiss and pulls Steve closer.

When they eventually come up for air, Bucky sighs. “Just as sweet as I remember,” he says.

Steve wonders if he could ever see Bucky differently. He thinks there is a part of the both of them frozen in place at age ten. That’s where they began and that’s how they’ll always be to each other, just childlike and innocent, all bright eyed and golden wrapped up together in the baking sun.

Steve makes a choked sound. He can’t seem to find his words. Bucky is looking up at him, looking _up_. He’s looking at Steve all pleased with himself. Steve stutters, and blushes all the way down to his toes. He wants Bucky, and Steve thinks he’s going to be lucky enough to have him.

“Look at you all blushy,” Bucky says, fond. “Looky here. I can still do that huh? The serum didn’t take that insanely dark rosy blush away. Thank God some things don’t change.”

“If you look at me right I’m always gonna turn bright red, can’t help it. It’s you.”

“How far down does that blush go?” Bucky says, and runs a thumb against Steve’s collar, playing at it like he’s gonna peak down. “Just down your neck?” Bucky pauses and licks his lips. He tilts his head, thoughtful. “Are you gonna let me see you?”

“Wh..whatever you want Buck,” Steve says, reduced to stuttering, too happy to try to get all smart with his mouth like he used to. He feels so nervous, tripping over himself like this, as if he’s not had Bucky every which way. But Bucky’s always been able to make Steve feel huge and godlike, even when he was tiny and weak. Far before he was anyone, Steve was Bucky’s.

Bucky starts to undo the buttons on Steve’s uniform. The jacket falls open and Bucky sneaks his right hand under it and puts his palm against the small of Steve’s back. He doesn’t touch Steve’s bare skin. Bucky has never reached very far up on Steve’s back and chest unless it’s covered. Not since that very first time.

Steve thinks about how Bucky has never seen him completely exposed and has never minded one bit, he’s never pushed or even explored it. Steve finds he wants Bucky to see all of him very much. Steve pushes the jacket off his shoulders. It falls heavy to the floor.

Bucky runs his hands over Steve’s shoulders and down his torso. Bucky swallows noticeably when he runs his fingers down Steve’s chest and feels that there’s no binding there anymore. And he knows, because he saw Steve across the river, and he’s seen Steve change his clothes in front of the Howlies, and he’s seen Steve topless now, because it’s been unavoidable, but to feel it must do something to him because he looks up at Steve now and Steve just knows he’s going to ask.

“That’s different,” Bucky says, “And I don’t mean the weight of you.” He runs his hands up and down Steve, up and down over the fabric, and Steve lets him, a little smile playing on his mouth. This feels terribly exciting, like the first time he looked at himself in the mirror after his surgery, his chest flat and finally looking the way he had always hoped. “How did they do it?”

“Erskine didn’t want me to have to wear that thing around my chest all the time, especially with my lungs. And he knew I’d have to be shirtless a lot during basic. So he offered surgery. He said he’d done it before a few times and was happy to do it again.” Steve shrugs. “I was sore and tender for a bit. The bruising was minimal. And the serum made the remnants of it basically noticeable.”

“Sounds like somethin’ I woulda read to you in one of those science fiction novels you used to hate so much.”

“I know.”

“But you like it? Right? How you look now?”

“I mean, certain aspects, yeah.”

“Good. Good.” 

Bucky pulls Steve towards him by his belt and walks backwards to the bed. He sits down on the lumpy mattress and his face is level with Steve’s sternum. He squeezes Steve’s waist and looks up at him so sweet that it seems impossible that it’s really been years since Bucky has looked at him this way. It just looks so natural on him, like he couldn’t have possibly ever been looking at Steve in any other way but this.

Bucky takes his hands away and folds them in his lap. He sighs.

“What is it?” Steve asks, frightened that Bucky has changed his mind and that he thinks they shouldn’t.

“You know I never cared right? About any of it. The way you look. Either way it’s you. You’ve always been the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“Buck.”

“It would kill me for you to not know that.”

Steve leans down to kiss Buck. When he pulls away he takes his shirt off and lets Bucky drink him up, his eyes going wide at Steve’s bare shoulders and flat chest.

“Oh,” Bucky breathes, and runs a hand down Steve’s bare chest. Steve shivers. The image of Bucky touching him and seeing him like this is something he’s only been able to fantasize about.

“I think I’ve got bigger tits now than I ever did before the serum,” Steve says, trying to break the tension he’s feeling. Besides, it’s not an untrue statement.

Bucky barks out a laugh. He squeezes at Steve’s pectoral. He runs a finger gently over the thin pink scar. He runs his hands across the entire expanse of Steve, from clavicle to stomach. “I must be the luckiest guy in the world, to get to see you like this.”

“You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you _haven’t_ gotten lucky in a long while.”

“Maybe. It’s still true,” Bucky says, and leans forward and puts his lips right above Steve’s left nipple. He kisses the soft skin there, then takes Steve’s nipple into his mouth. Steve stifles the groan that wants to escape him. He runs a hand through Bucky’s hair and attempts to steady himself. Bucky tilts his head and makes his way down until he’s sucking a mark onto Steve’s ribs.

Steve feels like he’s going to come undone. He pushes Bucky onto his back and crawls on top of him.

“You’re entirely too clothed,” Steve says. He strips Bucky down and commits to memory every detail. Bucky is too thin, and too pale, but his arms are strong and his leg muscles are more prominent than they’ve ever been before. Steve’s mouth goes dry upon seeing the trail of dark hair leading down to Bucky’s groin. He’s missed him so much.

Bucky is already erect, and when he pulls Steve down to kiss him Steve feels the weight of him against his stomach. There’s too much that he wants all at once.

Bucky puts his hand on the zipper of Steve’s pants. “You don’t have any more surprises for me, do you?”

Steve laughs lightly. “No Buck, the rest is much the same.”

“Well come here sweetheart, I don’t think I can wait much longer here.”

Steve obliges. 

It’s funny, because Steve always thought that if and when he was able to get his hands on Bucky again, he’d kiss him like the sky was falling and all that clichéd shit, but that’s not how they go at all.

He undresses Bucky slowly. He moves his fingers against Bucky’s pale and bruised flesh. Bucky’s eyes are shut but he’s smiling, and sighing into each touch. They move against each other like they have all the time in the world, because they want to believe they do.

When Bucky is naked under Steve in the dark room, he presses his bare chest to Steve’s. He holds him, and breathes against him, but does not touch him in a way meant to arouse. Only in a way meant to comfort. 

“I know you’re tired Steve,” Bucky says. “You can rest now, for a little while.”

“So are you. You’re not eating enough. Definitely not sleeping enough.”

“Look at that, you sound like me,” Bucky teases, but doesn’t deny it.

“I’m just worried about you.”

“I know. You don’t gotta though. Knowing you’re okay is all I need.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

Bucky scoffs and hides his face in Steve’s neck. “I don’t know why I thought I could.”

“Talk to me, would you?” Steve asks, keeping his voice light and soft. He doesn’t want to spook Bucky, to make him pull even further inwards.

“I don’t even know what to say because I just want to forget it. That lab you pulled me from. It keeps me up at night, I don’t know what else to say. You know how my father is so quiet about his time in the trenches. I think that’s what I’ll be like if I ever leave this cold and stinkin’ place.”

“Course you’ll leave this place Buck,” Steve says, rubbing a thumb down Bucky’s spine. “We’ll go home together, get us a real nice place.”

“We’re gonna live together still, huh?”

“Sure, where the hell else would I live?”

“London, maybe,” Bucky says softly against Steve’s chest.

“What the fuck is in London?”

“Nevermind me.” Bucky kisses Steve’s shoulder. “I’m just blowin’ smoke.”

“I should say so,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s hair.

Bucky readjusts himself so he can lay up on his elbows and kiss Steve. His tongue swipes across Steve’s bottom lip, and then he slots their lips together. Bucky takes a hand and holds Steve’s jaw in place. Steve wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist and then rolls him over.

“Could I have you?” Steve asks. Bucky laughs.

“Please, whatever you want.”

So Steve lets his hand wander down as he kisses Bucky. He works his way inside Bucky, muscle memory kicking in. He feels Bucky begin to get hard again against thigh. He works a second finger inside Bucky and hushes him softly when Bucky lets out a high whine. The sound goes straight between Steve’s legs.

“Buck, when you sound like that…God, I wish I could--” Steve trails off, feeling the heat rise in his face. Bucky is tight and warm around his fingers. His hands are everywhere, and his face is so pretty.

“Wish what?”

“Wish I could,” Steve starts, then the rest falls out of his mouth shaky. “Could come inside you.”

Bucky smiles up at Steve. “How do you do that shit? Go from confident to shy in a heartbeat? Drives me wild, that I’m the cause of it.” Bucky reaches down. His fingers brush past the patch of hair at Steve’s groin and then go farther, to where Steve is warm and wanting. “Could you settle for all over my hand?”

Steve goes impossibly redder. He smiles. “Sure, Buck.”

Bucky strokes Steve, then very slowly works a finger inside him. Then two. Steve moans, and grinds down against the heel of Bucky’s palm. They fuck each other slow and sweet. Steve has missed sex, he’s missed Bucky. He tells Bucky he loves him twice before coming all over Bucky’s palm and fingers, feeling the last of his doubt fade away.

For a long time they lay together in silence. Eventually they dress. Bucky is the first to move away. He pulls his pants on and then his shirt, his face frighteningly blank. Finally, he lights a cigarette and puts a hand on Steve's arm. 

"I have something to say, and you aren't gonna like it." 

"Just don't say it then," Steve says, quick and near begging. He doesn't like the look on Bucky's face. 

But Bucky smiles, devastatingly beautiful. When he speaks his voice is soft and slow, like he's explaining something to a child. 

"If I don't make it out of here, I want you to ask Carter to marry you." 

"What?!" Steve feels his face go hot. This is not how he thought their night would be ending, especially after all the ways Bucky has just touched him, hardly an hour ago. 

"At least think about it will you?" 

"No." Steve shakes his head furiously. "I won't." 

"Don't be stupid Steve. I'm only saying that someone's gotta watch your back. And if I can't it should be her." 

"Why would you….you're not gonna die Buck, Christ sake. I won't let that happen." 

"Stevie. I just have to say it. Okay? Just let me say my piece." 

"You're right. I don't like this one bit." 

"The thing is Steve, is that she knows you. She knows, and she likes you. I can see that she does because she looks at you like I look at you. I would recognize that anywhere. And don't you dare lie to me, I know you like her too." 

"Buck," Steve starts, because he wants to say that it's nothing compared to how he feels for Bucky. He wants to say that it doesn't matter, but Bucky shakes his head. He blows smoke through his nose and smiles sweetly at Steve. 

"Baby, I don't care. If I was interested in dames at all I'd want her for myself. Just think about it. Please." 

Steve doesn't say anything. He isn't going to think about it. There's nothing to think about. But Bucky is looking at him expectantly. Steve takes a deep breath in and out. 

"Fine. If it'll make you happy." 

"It will make me happy. It'll give me some peace of mind." 

Bucky finishes his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray. 

"Shall we go check on the men?" 

Steve shrugs. He sort of feels ill, which doesn't tend to happen with this new body. "Guess we should. Thought you were tired?" 

"That was just me trying to get you up here, dummy. Come here Steve," Bucky says, and holds out a hand. Steve does so immediately, shoving his way into Bucky's arms. "When we get home we'll be able to buy such a nice apartment. Probably a house if we wanted. We'll set it up real pretty. It'll be ours, okay?" Bucky says into Steve's neck. 

"Yeah." Steve nods into Bucky's hair. "All of it, please." 

"You got it sweetheart." Bucky pulls back and kisses Steve one last time. "Let's go join the party." 

They leave the room. They go back to the Howlies. Steve has no idea how many times he'll play the night back in his head.

/

Their hands are inches apart. Steve holds onto the side of the train, fingers slipping despite the freezing cold and whipping wind.

“Take my hand!” Steve calls, heart hammering. But Bucky reaches up, he’s so close.

And then he isn’t there at all.

/

Steve wants to be drunk. He wants to be so absolutely shit faced, can’t stand, can’t even sit up. He wants to be drunk like they got on Bucky’s twenty first birthday, stumbling home, arms over each other’s shoulders to keep the other standing. Bucky had puked into the streets of Brooklyn and Steve had used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe at Bucky’s mouth. Bucky had said that was too sweet of him, but Steve had thrown up over the toilet seat in the morning. They had both laughed through the hangover, laying around feeling sorry for themselves, having slow sex in the afternoon to distract from their headaches and inside out stomachs.

Steve downs another shot of whiskey, and sure the taste of it burns going down but his metabolism takes care of any warmth his stomach may have enjoyed. Still, he gives it another go. He’s so painfully aware of everything. All he wants is to forget, just for a few minutes. He’s crying like a baby, and that at least feels good. He’s cried probably five times in his life that he can remember. Now he feels like he might never stop.

Carter shows up and sits down across from Steve. She pours herself a shot and drinks it. Just the one. She tilts her head and gives Steve a look, like she’s trying to say sorry.

She may know all about Steve and the serum he’s injected most of his life. She might know the reason he has two thin pink scars across his chest. She doesn’t know his heart though, as much talk as there has been. Steve feels too raw and bitter for her kindness right now. He doesn’t want her comfort. He doesn’t want anything.

“Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just sorry that I can’t get drunk.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Steve could almost laugh at that. Almost. “Did you read the report?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know that’s not true.”

Peggy sighs. “I think that Barnes knew what he was doing, going in after you like that. He knew. So allow him his choice. He must have thought you were worth it.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sure he did. That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No. It doesn’t make it okay,” she says softly.

“I’m not gonna stop until all of Hydra is destroyed,” Steve says, pouring himself another shot. That’s really all he has. After that’s done, there will be nothing. No point at all.

“As well you should, and I’ll gladly help you.”

“You know, he was just doing what he always did. That’s why it’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bucky was just doing what he always did. I got in too deep, and he had to come get me. You know, I did all this, but what was the point if I couldn’t even save him?”

“Steve,” Peggy says gently. “You’re not just a weapon, you do know that, don’t you?”

Steve shrugs. He wipes at his nose.

“I know it’s perhaps not my place but I…” Peggy trails off, then gets her bearings and looks Steve in the eye. “I saw how he was with you. I hardly think he would regret it.”

Steve does laugh then. He wants to tell her everything. He wants just one person to know that he loved Bucky endlessly. But that’s not right; he _loves_ Bucky. He’ll love Bucky until he’s dead in the ground, buried next to his mother, and then even after that. He wants to tell Peggy that Bucky was something beyond rare. He was kind, and sweet, funny as hell, and charming as hell. He wants to tell her that Bucky kissed honeyed and slow. He wants to tell her that Bucky wasn’t his best friend, he was the love of his life.

“I don’t think he would regret it. He was stupid like that. But I do.”

/

There is still work to be done, of course. It seems no more pressing than eating or dressing, but Steve knows that it is far more pressing. More people will die. But Bucky is already dead. People will continue to die. Steve should have jumped after him. Of this fact he is certain. He could have survived, unlikely as it might have been, and then he would have at least had a body to bury.

/

Steve has a mission. He kisses Carter before he goes, because it’s what Bucky would have wanted and because Bucky had been right. He does like Peggy. He could even have loved her, if his heart wasn’t already taken.

When Steve hits the ocean, he isn’t afraid. He stopped being scared when he watched Bucky fall.

The ship slowly fills with water. Steve is calm. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t pray. He shuts his eyes and thinks of Bucky’s warm smile. He thinks of how his eyes crinkled when he laughed. He thinks of how he was beyond lucky to have had someone who understood him, and loved him truly. He thinks of how lucky he was to have had someone so beautiful and smart, so caring gentle. Who was hard on him when he needed it.

“I’ll see you soon, honey,” Steve says, and the icy water closes over his mouth and nose. He doesn’t fight it. Steve’s body convulses five times, and then he is submerged, the freezing water tangling into his throat.

_Yeah it's just there_ _  
At the bottom of those spiral stairs  
It's the World's Fair  
The future's on display  
In the still night  
They turned on the electric lights  
And the crowd cried out  
Everyone looks so amazed_

Conor Oberst, Tachycardia

**Author's Note:**

> and that is it for part two! part three is in the works. 
> 
> i'm dykecrowleys on tumblr, pls say hey if you want to scream about superheroes


End file.
